I See You There
by TheArchimage
Summary: (Deltarune) Kris is usually a little weird, but even they think they're being especially out of character today. Is it just their imagination, or...?


_AN: Consider this fic a rebuttal to all the "Chara is an evil psychopath and possessing Kris!"_ _fics that have been popping up lately. It's ridiculous I still have to have arguments about Chara being a good kid in 2018._

* * *

The sunlight hurts my eyes, and mother is ready to smother with her sing-song voice. Ugh, morning people. I'm not much of a morning person, or an afternoon person, or an evening person. These days I hardly feel like a person at all. Going to school is too much today. I don't want to get up. I don't want to do anything.

I get up anyway. Mom's just going to keep nagging me until I do. I take my time looking over Asriel's side of the room; his trophies, his bed, his game system where I've been stealing the good controller (I was right, the B button on the third-party controller has input lag). Mom clearly did a bit of housekeeping before rousing me: his side is clear of dust. Mine isn't. My side of the room has hardly anything but dust. Why bother when it's just going to get dusty again? I tour the whole house, stopping at anything that looks out-of-place. I flush the toilet until Mom gets mad, I can't even manage a chuckle when she threatens to stick me with the plumbing bill. A suspicion starts to grow in my mind but I put it aside. No way. I'm just going to school like normal. Putting on an act, going through the motions, like I do every day. So what if I wanted to wander around my house a little, it didn't mean anything.

It's harder to dismiss at school. I try to talk to every single person to try and find a partner, every last one, including Temmie and her friggin' egg. I get paired with Susie anyway, because of course everyone else has already picked out partners before I got there. So why did I try everyone else? Is it because I don't like her? No… well, I don't, but I don't hate her. Whether I partner with her or someone else doesn't especially matter to me.

(It's because if I don't talk to them now I might miss some optional dialogue.)

I push that thought from my head. No, that's stupid. There's no way it happened again.

I catch Susie eating Ms. Alphys' chalk. I don't react but she seems certain I'm about to rat her out. I don't care to. I can't even bring myself to tell her I won't. She slams me against the locker and I ragdoll. I don't care. If she wants to rough me up she can do whatever she likes. The suspicion from this morning fades from my mind; yeah, I was jumping at shadows. If _something_ was happening I would have slapped her, or fought her off, or tried to run away. Instead the only thing that saves me is my lack of a reaction. Seeing that I'm not going to cower or scream Susie gets bored and drops me to the floor. She asks my opinion of doing the project by myself and before I can answer says my decisions don't matter. Tell me something I don't know.

But of course I was not merely being paranoid. It's dark when we enter the closet. It goes on for too long. The door slams shut and the floor falls out from underneath us. Susie reaches out for a handhold; I go completely limp. I am too busy processing how much bullshit this all is to bother flailing. _Here. We fucking. Go._

* * *

Hours later school is over and Susie and I have parted ways. Mom is beyond pissed when I call her but her anger cools instantly when I tell her I was with a friend. Even through the phone I can hear her contemplate whether I'm lying but she knows better. I've always been a quiet kid, more so than usual lately, but even in my current state I can't bring myself to lie. What can I say, keeping track of a web of lies is too much effort. She lets it slide, clearly not wanting to discourage what she probably thinks is a breakthrough. I'll have to walk back home but that's fine. It'll give me some time to think.

I pull out the only thing I'm carrying now and study it. To anyone else it would be a ball of junk. But to me it's a symbol of what happened with Susie and Ralsei. A keepsake, I guess you could say. It was a huge pain in the ass but as these things went I had to admit it wasn't bad. I didn't mind hanging out with Susie. I guess we're friends now. When she was in trouble I leapt in front of her, shield at the ready. I did that, on my own. I can't explain it, but I think Susie's problem is similar to mine. Nobody sees her for what she is. No one tries to understand her. It's too late for me, I'm too far gone, but if this whole experience gave her something new to care about in life… maybe it wasn't a total waste.

I feel a sudden urge to drop the object and my hand starts shaking. No. I don't want to. I _really_ don't want to. This is mine, the only thing I have that's mine and mine alone. It's the only thing I have left from-

I drop it and it shatters into pieces on the linoleum. With one look I know it's hopeless; it will never come back together again. I leave it behind for the night janitor to clean up.

I guess it was dropped to see what would happen. My choices don't matter. My wants don't matter.

* * *

I go all over town, talking to everyone I see. A lot of people comment about how weird it is for me to be so outgoing but they never stop to question it. I wonder if any of them realize a sudden burst of cheerfulness after a long depression is a warning sign that the person has been contemplating suicide and the manic phase is because they've made the decision to go through with it. Probably not. I can't fully understand why I'm acting like I do: I knock on every door, I ask Officer Undyne about my teacher, I stand for an uncomfortably long time in front of somebody's grave. Gerson Boom? I think he died when I was five. I can't even remember his face. I talk to some weird guy in front of a shop I've never seen before. Looks like a cheesy approximation of a human skeleton, says his name is Sans. I hate him the moment he opens his mouth, but I exhaust every topic of conversation I can think of and several I can't. He's a condescending prick the entire time. I even accept his invitation to help him out at the store later, even though I would really rather do anything else. I hate him more than anything, because I can't even begin to imagine what you-

… Because I can't tell what would interest anyone about him. I decide I have to be more careful.

MK is the only one who does more than notice I'm being weird, and that's only because I do more than try to catch up. He starts talking trash about Susie and how I shouldn't hang out with her. He chuckles to himself and comments about how angry I look. Because I am angry. This isn't my body trying to act as though I have feelings like a real person, I actually am legitimately angry. The revelation ripples through me like thunder. The rage is personal and intense and indescribably _now_. I could rip his head off. I could eat his face. I could punch him and turn him to dust and grind it under my heel and I wouldn't be sorry at all. I turn and walk away before I do any of that. I should feel grateful that my body kept me from making a mistake but I don't. It doesn't feel like it would have been a mistake.

I stop in front of the flower shop. No. No no no fuck no. I try to dig in my heels but it doesn't do more than add a scuff to my step. The bell rings as I open the door and _he_ is standing there in the back of the shop with his back to the door. I will myself to walk out before he notices but I am rooted to the spot. When he finishes with whatever he's doing to actually greet a customer- this is why your shop is failing!- he is overjoyed to see me. He doesn't bother trying to bring up any of the old unpleasantness (which I'm grateful for) and scoops me up in a hug (which I'm not). He apologizes but the damage is done; I already didn't want to be here and now my skin is crawling. The scent of pollen and failure has seeped into my shirt; it'll take forever to get out. He gives me flowers for Mom. I want to toss them in the trash right in front of him, but it's not my decision to make. Seems like, worse than my choices not mattering, I don't get to make choices at all anymore.

I get home and hand Mom the flowers. She throws them away and I don't blame her. There's too much history there, too much hurt and pain to go into for any of us. At least Asriel doesn't have to see this. Once again he lucks out. She tells me her latest pie is cooling and I should try not to eat the entire thing in one sitting. I think about telling her I won't not try but I get lost in how many negatives I have to use to promise to eat all of it and go up to our room, mine and his. I guess it's just my room now, but even though Asriel doesn't sleep there anymore it still feels more like his than mine, maybe more than ever.

I fall face-first into the bed without even taking my clothes off. The body sleeps, but I do not. I'm watching. Waiting. I'm very careful about it. After half an hour or so, long enough for the sun to have gone down, I test by trying to roll off the bed. It takes several tries, but I tumble to the ground in a tangle of blankets. I let myself lie there for a moment, trying to determine whether I'm still able to move by my own will or whether even my will has been subsumed. After a few seconds I determine it's been long enough and stumble to my feet. Trying to move gives me a full-body pins and needles feeling. I doubt I have much time. It's hard to work up the energy but I lift my arm and flex the fingers of my left hand. I'm only going to get one shot at this. If I blow it I could be stuck for quite a while. I take a deep breath and plunge my hand into my chest. It hurts, the pain is unreal, but I force myself through it. I'm close now, if I strain my ears I can hear a very quiet, very far-away shriek and a breathless _What the fuck?!_ I start to panic, I'm almost out of time, I'm not going to make it, I'm not-

My fingers find something. With every last bit of effort I can manage I squeeze and tear it free without leaving an exit wound in my chest or my shirt. There isn't so much as a speck of blood on me. It was never my physical body that I punched through. I look at the object in my hand: a cartoony red heart. A human soul.

It's you.

A familiar ennui settles over my body. It's mine again, wholly and fully mine. My life is mine again. Just because I wasn't using them never gave you the right to take them for your own curiosity. The heart struggles in my hand but you have no power like this. If only you could get back into my chest you could pilot this empty vessel, but I won't let you. I throw you into the cage and it closes and locks itself. I can see you rattling against the bars to try and find a way out, but it's too late. I hope you had fun because you're not getting out of there. You'd better stay quiet if you know what's good for you. See that stain? That's what happened to the last one of you that got uppity. I glare at you and draw my knife to illustrate the threat. I can hear you shouting something: _It's Chara! Chara is possessing Kris!_ I can guess the intent, if not the meaning. I can only laugh. Ha ha, if that isn't the best joke I've ever heard. Nobody else bothers to learn about me. They look at me and see Asriel's less-cool brother, or a weird freak-ass made of blood nobody wants to get close to, or a quiet and boring kid like any other. And then there's you. You invaded my life. You made me a stranger in my own body. You humiliated me, dragged me across town, broke my stuff and poked your nose into every corner of my personal life without so much as a "mother may I". And even though you were looking through my eyes all day, even though you spent hours in my company, you never saw me at all.


End file.
